o lord, become my salvation,
for i’ve given my thoughts away,
my nerves, veins, my skin,
for a boy who lives between stolen walls,
who cuts his kingdom out of his scars,
who sleeps on depravity,
and brands it,
onto his collar, glowing
like nicotine between his teeth.

o lord, become my salvation,
for i’ve learnt the taste,
of his skin, his blood, and the chasing alcohol,
seeping into his tongue,
that i’ve memorized the unwhole prayers,
murmured worshippings
sung into my chest,
by a boy who doesn’t believe,
while his fingertips of broken glass,
sew themselves into my bones,
shining shards between my ribcage,
medallions inches away from my lungs.

o lord, become my salvation,
for i’ve torn the ground,
rubber against asphalt, black against white,
for him,
all with him, not against,
to feel my bloodstreams
between the bassline, bleeding out
of his speakers,
vowed immortality by the molten streetlights,
yet promised absolution by his shaking teeth, uneven breath and crumbling hands,
nails wasting into my back, and his canines, upon red, purple skin.

o lord, become his salvation,
for he is in love with damnation,
and believes in disbelieving,
not in my half vacant hopes, prayers, but abandons,
his armoured heart, on the race tracks,
his dulled nerves glowing white cold,
a fire burns, trapped inside his windpipe,
on nothing but his own being,
the materials inside his blood,
the only things he entrusts in,
that he feeds himself to it
like a wolf,
obsessed with the reflected liquid moon,
and desperate to drown.

o lord, become his salvation,
for he loves the flames when they’re
gasoline-streaked bottles,
staining cracking windshields, but even more when they’re curled around his neck,
wrapped ropes inside his corrupted lungs
like a snare, a gallows built
after every sunset and too many bottles,
a halo of a noose ‘round his hair,
and my hands, twisting,
second hand smoke
exchanging through starving lips,
marks along his jaw printing cheap divinity,
white sunglasses lifted,
the dying boy,
another dying boy beside him,
we burn alive.

o lord, become our salvation.
for we’ve died, we’ve lost,
ourselves in each other’s lips,
sewn pieces of our souls,
into each other’s fingers,
lips, skin, and jaw,
and with a red string
threading through our wrists,
built our decadent kingdoms inside
our haunted minds,
we’ve become the cure,
in each other’s cyanide veins.

o lord, grant us forever.

—  for a boy who wears a crown, of gleaming guillotine, damned to destruction by his very own fingers and his very own dreams. // r.d
Physically Fit + A CS One Shot

A/N: Oh, look - I am still alive! I can’t believe it has taken me so long to publish anything new, but here’s some shameless workplace smut based on a “our new PE teacher is so hot” text I recently got from a friend who teaches at anither school. Rated M for sure and just about 3K words. Enjoy XOXO!

The raw wood of the gym’s corner closet rubbed roughly against her shoulder blades as her breath heaved and trembled. The position she’d found herself in was likely snagging the fabric of the very new and very soft chenille gray sweater she’d purchased with the arrival of October weather in mind - but Emma found quickly that she could only focus on one definitive thought.

This was so beyond unprofessional.

“So,” he started, his lips tracing the length of her throat with the beginning of a scorching kiss. “What brings you to the very empty school gymnasium this afternoon, Swan?”

As if he doesn’t know, she thought with a gasp that almost begged for more. Emma couldn’t help but bite her lip at the sound of his smooth accent moving across her skin, starting at her jaw and moving down to the neckline of her top in an all too suggestive way - one she’d come to know very well over the past two months. His smirk was smug and patient as he pulled back just enough for their eyes to meet, the simmering passion between them growing more needy and wanting as each tense second slipped by. She let her tongue swipe over her lower lip as his gaze lingered on her mouth, his unwavering concentration confirming he didn’t really need an answer to that question.

Yes, he knew damn well why she was there. It was the same reason she made a well planned and skillfully sneaky entrance into the gym every Tuesday at this specific time while her students went to art. It was the same reason he’d shaken up the schedule for his own classes, making sure that his free hour coincided with hers.

“My weekly prep time-” she answered, holding back a moan as his teeth pressed lightly on her collarbone. “-just like always.”

Keep reading


so punkheart11 and I came up with a dbz/gravity falls mashup awhile ago, and honest to god it just gets funnier the more we add to it XP

so far we have Vegeta and Goku as Dipper and Mabel, Whis as Grunkle Stan (since in Dragon Ball Super Goku and Vegeta are pretty much living with him X3), Vados (Whis’ sister) as Ford, Trunks and Broly as Candy and Grenda, 18 as Wendy, Yamcha as Soos, Icarus as Waddles, Raditz as Toby Determined, Guldo as Blendin, Frieza as Bill, Burter and Jeice as Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland, Roshi as McGucket, Bulma as Pacifica, and…I can’t remember who else XD

I actually doodled these up for punkheart11′s birthday, but I wanted to post them here as well :P most of these are scenes from “Carpet Diem” cuz we thought it’d be fucking hilarious if Goku and Vegeta switched bodies (as well as competed for suck-up points from Whis X3) I had a lot of fun drawing all the faces ;P

4. Rutee Katrea from Tales of Destiny

About theme: I always loved Rutee and coud not understand why so many people hate her, while she is cool and cares about children so much. The same time people love Leon way too much. So, here is the picture of Rutee completely overshadowing Leon!

About execution/critique: ok, this is my first real failure of this challenge! This fuchsia color is too bright, too strong, I can’t tame it! It’s, like yelling on you from this picture! Which is sad, because I quite liked how lineart came out. But the fuchsia killed it. Challenge status: failed.